Just Another Saturday
by The Improbable Fan
Summary: It's Saturday. No school and no work. What are Mr. Peabody and Sherman to do? I think the answer is quite simple.


It was a normal Saturday in the penthouse apartment of the world-renowned canine genius Mr. Peabody and his son Sherman. After a long week of school and work, the two were especially glad to be able to sleep in.

Mr. Peabody woke up before Sherman, as usual. He stretched out his paws in front of him, working away all those nasty kinks from the previous night.

He sighed contently before reaching over to his bedside table to retrieve his glasses. As soon as he felt the thick frame of his glasses, he placed them on his face.

Nodding in satisfaction, he jumped out of his bed and ran over to his dresser. He opened a drawer and took out one of his many bow ties. He quickly clipped it onto his fur and straightened it out.

"Ah, nothing begins a day better than wearing the perfect attire."

He glanced at a nearby mirror, giving his appearance a onceover. He smoothed back the fur on the top of his head and finally, he was ready to go.

He quietly walked over to his son's room across the hall. Arriving at the door, he carefully opened the door so as not to disturb his possibly still-sleeping son. He peeked his head through the door and smiled warmly upon seeing Sherman still sound asleep, his soft breaths the only thing that could be heard.

He backed away from the door and closed it quietly. He then turned around and proceeded to the kitchen, beginning to prepare the day's breakfast.

* * *

Sherman roused from his sleep. His nostrils began to detect a rather delicious aroma. He slowly sat up from his bed, rubbing his eyes. He reached for his glasses and placed them on his face.

He took a deep breath. The smell of pancakes, bacon, and eggs filled his nose. He licked his lips and raced out of bed, accidently tripping over his blanket.

He rubbed his head and quickly disentangled himself from his comforter. After making sure he would not trip over anything else, he swiftly exited the room and headed towards the kitchen.

Upon entering the kitchen, Sherman found his dad flipping pancakes, tossing them into the air with accurate precision. Mr. Peabody sensed his son's presence in the room and turned around to greet him.

"Good morning, Sherman," the white beagle placed the frying pan back on the stove and walked over to his son.

"Morning, Mr. Peabody. Smells good." He breathed in another whiff of the food to emphasize his point.

Mr. Peabody chuckled, "Thank you. Everything should be ready in a few minutes. Head on off to the dining room. I'll be in shortly."

Sherman nodded, "Sounds good." With that, he ran past the kitchen doors, causing them to swing and knock over a mixing bowl on a nearby counter.

Mr. Peabody jumped and ran over to the side of the counter, catching the bowl before a mess was created. He sighed and chuckled flatly, "That boy will _bowl_ over from his own excitement one of these days."

* * *

The two soon finished their breakfast. Mr. Peabody quickly washed and dried the dirty dishes with the help of Sherman.

After that was done, the two sat down on the large couch in the living room, wondering what they should do on their off day.

Sherman stared at his feet in front of him, his mind wandering.

"So, is there anything in particular that you wanted to do today, Sherman?" Mr. Peabody looked over at his son.

Sherman put a finger to his chin in thought, "Hmm. Well, uh…how about - no, that's not a good idea. We could go - oh, wait, never mind." He furrowed an eyebrow, trying to think of something.

He sat straight up having thought of something. "Ooh! Maybe Penny can come over today." He ran over to the phone but stopped mid-way.

"Hold the phone, Sherman," his father held up a paw. "Do you not recall Ms. Peterson telling you that she and her family were visiting her grandparents in California for a week? Why, they left right after school yesterday." Mr. Peabody raised an eyebrow at Sherman.

Sherman deflated upon remembering his conversation with Penny yesterday.

 _We're going to California! Eeeee! I can't wait! The palm trees. The warm weather. Not to mention all of the awesome tourists attractions there. Disney Land, Universal, Sea World. Oh, I can't wait!_

 _Ow, Penny! Keep your excitement to yourself, will ya? My eardrums are sensitive to high-pitched screams._

 _Well, excuse me, Sherman. It's not like you've never been excited for something before. I seem to remember a certain someone who wouldn't stop talking about his trip to the Wild West to visit Wild Bill Hickok._

 _…Touché. Well, enjoy your trip._

 _You know I will._

Sherman sighed, "Well, there goes that idea." He walked back over to the couch, flopping down on it.

Mr. Peabody smirked, "You honestly can't think of anything?"

Sherman shrugged, "I got nothing."

Mr. Peabody's smirk remained on his face, "Double negative, Sherman. You're positive you can't think of anything?"

Sherman groaned, "Yes, Mr. Peabody! I can't think of _anything._ Nothing. Zilch. Nada. _Nothing!_ "

Mr. Peabody placed a paw on his chin in mock reminisce, "I remember a time when I had nothing to do, w _ay back_ in my puppyhood, " he noticed Sherman perk up at his emphasized words. "I remember this one time - "

Sherman bolted straight up, "That's it! A trip in the WABAC! Why didn't I think of that before?"

Mr. Peabody smiled, folding his arms, "Why, indeed."

Sherman looked over at his father's expression. A look of understanding spread across his face, which was soon replaced by a disapproving glare.

"You had thought of that already, hadn't you."

Mr. Peabody jumped down from the couch and walked towards the elevator, eyes closed in satisfaction, "Naturally."

Sherman rolled his eyes but quickly followed his dad to the elevator.

* * *

"So, when should we go today, Sherman?" Mr. Peabody pressed a button, bringing the WABAC to life.

Sherman sat in the chair next to his father, "Hmm. We could visit Mr. Da Vinci."

Mr. Peabody tapped his chin, "A good idea, but I think we visit Leo more often than not. Perhaps somewhere else. Any other ideas?"

Sherman looked up in thought. "1776?"

His canine father raised an eyebrow, "I've already taken you to all the important historical dates of that year."

"What about the American Revolution?"

"And risk getting in a confrontation with Mother England? I think not."

Sherman sighed, tapping his chin before an idea came to him. "Ooh! How about the Colosseum?"

Mr. Peabody smiled, "Ah, the Colosseum. Now, that's a fine choice, my boy. The source of entertainment for the common people of Rome during the first century. So, Italy then?" He typed the coordinates into the database. "And the year? Let's go with 82 A.D." He typed in the time and adjusted the dial.

"All right, we're ready." With that being said, Mr. Peabody pressed the big red button, and they were off soaring through a wormhole.

* * *

In a matter of seconds, the WABAC had successfully transported the two back into early Rome. They had landed on a hill, overlooking the city of Rome.

Both Mr. Peabody and Sherman were clothed in white linen togas, similar to the ones they wore in ancient Greece.

Once the cloaking device was turned on, the two exited the WABAC, walking down the hill towards the city.

The Colosseum was already visible as they approached the Roman gates.

"Ah, the Colosseum a.k.a the Flavian Amphitheatre. It's construction began under the reign of Emperor Vespasian, but it was completed during his son Titus's rule. This great structure was made solely out of concrete and stone. It is actually the largest amphitheater ever designed. It still stands present day, though it has certainly decayed over the centuries. In modern times, it is now visited as a famous tourist attraction. But, it's nice to see it in its freshly constructed state. It's only about two years old."

Mr. Peabody walked alongside his son, his arms placed casually behind his back.

"Gladiators would valiantly face off against one another, battling to the death, sometimes literally. And, they would do this in front of a live audience. Some people were even fed to the lions if they had disobeyed a Roman law or disregarded the Caesar. And, the people of Rome would watch with great satisfaction, even if someone was going to be killed. The Romans certainly had a rather gruesome sense of humor."

"So, the Colosseum is like the old version of a movie theater?"

Mr. Peabody blinked at the sudden question but chuckled, "Well, I guess you could say that. Some movies are certainly as violent as the common warrior battles that took place here. I guess we'll have to find out, won't we?"

The two approached the city gates, walking into the city of Rome.

"There it is, Mr. Peabody!" Sherman pointed at the large dome structure in the middle of the city.

"Indeed. Rather hard to miss, I must say. We'd better get going. Don't want to be _rome-ing_ the city for too long." Mr. Peabody smirked at his clever word play.

Sherman laughed but quickly became confused, "I don't get it."

Mr. Peabody rolled his eyes. What's the point of making puns if his own son didn't get them?

But, he didn't have time to dwell on that now. The had quickly found themselves standing in front of the Colossuem.

"Well, let's not waste anymore time, Sherman. Let's go inside." And, so they did.

* * *

Mr. Peabody and Sherman sat on the second highest tier, giving them a full view of the arena.

Sherman squirmed in his seat, holding his stomach.

Mr. Peabody looked over at his son, noticing his appearance. "Sherman, are you all right?"

"Huh? Oh, yah. I'm fine. But, I sure could go for something to eat. Are then any food vendors around here?" Sherman looked around, trying to find one.

Mr. Peabody chuckled, "Sherman, there aren't any food vendors around here. This is early Rome, not modern-day Manhattan. There's no – "

"Anyone wanteth any grapes? Fresh from the vine!" A Roman man nearby held a basket of green grapes in his hands.

Mr. Peabody blinked in surprise, "I stand corrected."

Sherman grinned, waving a hand, trying to get the man's attention. "Two bunches of grapes here, please."

The man came over and handed them two bunches of grapes, "That'll be two denarii."

Sherman's eyes filled with panic, "Uh…" He looked over at Mr. Peabody.

Mr. Peabody smiled calmly, reaching into his toga pocket and handed the man two coins, "There you are, my good sir."

The man nodded before walking away.

Sherman looked at his father curiously, "I didn't know you carried dennery with you.""

"That's _denarii_ , Sherman." Mr. Peabody corrected, "But, yes I do. Not all the time, though. But, it never hurts to be prepared. I have every type of coin known to man which I've assembled during our many past excursions. Comes in handy, wouldn't you agree?"

Sherman nodded, plopping a grape into his mouth.

The arena suddenly grew quiet as two Roman gladiators took their place down in the field.

They had acquired a pamphlet regarding today's battle and recognized the two as Sirs Agapetus and Bonifatius .

Coming out from the left, two Roman soldiers flanked a large lion, their swords at the ready in case the creature tried to lunge at them.

"Ooh, it looks like those two Roman warriors are going to fight the lion," Sherman leaned forward, almost falling out of his seat if not for Mr. Peabody's paw stopping him.

The white beagle nodded, "Judging from the scene below, I say that sounds like a correct assumption. This should be most intriguing." He placed a grape into his mouth and ate it.

After about a minute, the Roman soldiers quickly left the scene, leaving the lion with the gladiators.

And the fight began. The lion roared, walking slowly towards the two fighters. The two gladiators held out their maces, beginning to walk towards the large feline.

The lion roared a second time, his front left paw scratching at the ground below him.

Sherman frowned, "Why don't they just attack?"

"Sherman, warfare is not all about attacking. It's also about strategy. That lion could easily dodge their assault and catch them off guard. They must use their wits along with their weapons." Mr. Peabody explained.

They turned their attention back to the fight.

The lion began to circle them. The gladiators slowly backed away. Agapetus nodded to Bonifatius. They both went in different directions.

The lion snarled at them, finally lunging at Bonifatius. The crowd gasped, but Bonifatius ducked swiftly out of harm's way, even managing to strike a blow to the lion's right hind leg.

The crowd cheered but quickly died down as the lion growled in pain. The lion turned to Agapetus, charging towards him.

Agapetus stood his ground, hitting the lion head on with his mace. The lion roared, scratching the Roman's ankle.

Agapetus fell to the ground, clutching his ankle which began to bleed.

The lion was about to attack before Bonifatius hit the lion's side, causing it to stumble.

Agapetus nodded gratefully, quickly ripping off a part of his tunic to wrap around his wound.

The lion stood back up on its paws, snarling viciously at the two.

"The lion doesn't look too happy." Sherman noted anxiously.

"Indeed. I wonder who will be victorious." His father mused.

* * *

After about an hour, the battle had come to an end. The two gladiators were bruised and scarred, but the lion lay dead on the field after the two simultaneously struck the lion in the chest.

The crowd cheered loudly, along with Sherman and Mr. Peabody.

With the event coming to a close, Mr. Peabody and Sherman headed back to the WABAC.

"Wow, that was awesome! Those Roman warriors took down a lion! It took them longer than I thought it would, though." Sherman adjusted his glasses.

Mr. Peabody walked with his hands behind his back, "Strategy, Sherman. It takes more than just brute force to take down an opponent. You must think it through before simply jumping into a fight."

"I'm sure you do that all time, huh? We've had to fight a lot of people, and you've never lost." Sherman pointed out, looking up at the hill where the WABAC was located.

"Yes, Sherman. And, have you seen me simply rush to attack my foe? No, I find strategic maneuvering is my forte. And, I will only use violence as a last resort. And, I expect you to as well." Mr. Peabody gave his son a pointed look as they approached the now visible WABAC.

Sherman nodded, "I will, Mr. Peabody."

"Good." They entered the WABAC, preparing to head home.

"I believe a visit to the local ice cream establishment is in order. Are we in agreement?" Mr. Peabody looked at his son out of the corner of his eye as he piloted the WABAC.

Sherman's eyes lit up, "We're in agreement."

Mr. Peabody smiled, "Not a bad way to spend a Saturday."


End file.
